Curiously, Wonderfully, Simply Mad
by WhisperChildren
Summary: Her hair is black, but it shines gold in the light. Her eyes are blue, but they are laced with blood red tears. Her laugh, like glass. A looking glass. She is too curious for her own good. She is simply wonderful. She is simply...mad.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer ~ We, E.R.R and S.M.S, do not own the work of Lewis Carroll. We do however, own this particular story.

Prologue

Silence can trick us. It will stay until your heart aches, then it will disappear and when sound begins to overwhelm you, you want the silence back. Darkness can hurt you. Darkness can heal you. The hope that sits gathering dust in the back of your mind. The hope that you so desperately try to coax out of its never-ending slumber. You need to find a way. It all depends on your strength. Your sanity.

But we're all mad here.


	2. Chapter 1 Remember The Fall

Chapter 1 Remember The Fall

The cool water gently ran past her ankles, and the clean mud in the riverbank squished beneath her bare feet. The birds were particularly loud this afternoon, their beaks clicked and their songs were sweet. The branches above her twitched lightly in the breeze; blades of grass swayed gracefully back and forth. Fifteen year old Alice Liddell stood in the center of the small river that found its way far in front of her mother's large white house. Father always lets mother call it her own. It's her own artwork. Nearly every week she will redecorate or buy a new piece of furniture to decorate the cozy living space. But Alice hardly spent any time inside. She loved the outdoors. She loved the breeze, she loved the woods, she loved the daisies and the river. She couldn't recall ever not loving nature . . . in fact, she couldn't recall anything from before she was seven. Curious. "It's as if," said Alice aloud, "I never lived in this world at all. It's all a blurry image, like a dream."

"Alice, will you wash up! Honestly you spend all your time outside. It's not proper," Lorina, Alice's older sister, scolded, "No suitor wants a girl who can't do anything other than daydream." Edith, who was two years younger than Alice, sighed, "Lorina you don't have to be so harsh."

Edith knelt in front of Alice while she brushed her hair. "The days go by so quickly don't they Alice? Sometimes I feel time is catching up too fast for me to fully comprehend." Time. A watch. A rabbit. "Alice? You seem dazed. Sometimes I feel you aren't here anymore." Edith sighed, "It upsets mother you know. She's afraid you won't be with us for much longer. She's afraid you'll leave."

Genevieve, Alice's mother, glided into her daughter's room. She leant on the doorframe, "Alice darling did you leave my shawl outside? It's getting cold but I'm afraid I can't find it." "Oh! Yes mother, I'll get it!" She jumped up and ran down the stairs, ignoring her mother's calls to come back. Ignoring her mother's warnings of the dark, the cold. And poor Alice was too far to hear her mother whisper in fear, "I don't want you to disappear again. Wonderland isn't for you. I know."

Her blonde hair shone silver in the moonlight. Silver with flecks of gold. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to keep herself warm. Something soft rubbed against her leg and she jumped. "Dinah! You scared me you silly cat." Alice picked up the now very fat cat and cuddled her to her chest. "Have you seen mother's shawl?" Dinah meowed and looked towards the river. A large strip of red fabric tossed and turned on the grass. "Oh, there it is. Off you go Dinah. Go on now! Shoo!" Dinah left with a meow, her paws gently thudding on the damp grass. Alice leapt gracefully over the flowing water, her feet still bare. She laughed as she tried to catch the thin, red satin fabric. Her giggle echoed against the breeze. She smirked as the fabric stilled, her dainty hand clutched the corner and she threw it over her shoulders. It was surprisingly warm.

"Oh, no, no, no, no! It is too dark! I cannot see a thing!" Alice whipped her head toward the voice. It was familiar. Two bright pink eyes glowed slightly above Alice's head. "You!" It whispered harshly. "You were not to remember. I am sorry." The pink dots went black. "No!" Cried Alice, "Do not leave!" She ran aimlessly. Looking for the mysterious figure. "You cannot follow me!" The voice cried. Turn left. "Just watch me," Alice smirked.

The moon was gone. Trees covered it. Alice sighed. "Did I imagine you?" She turned around to head home. The path was easy to follow. She turned around again. And again. And again. "Oh no! Of course with my luck I get lost!" _You are not lost. You must remember. You need to find her. You need to find him. They need you. Try Alice. Try. _

She gasped. "It can't be . . . the white rabbit. Oh, god." She remembered it all. The White Rabbit. Cheshire. The Queens. The looking glass. Hatter. She remembered Wonderland.

Genevieve sat by the window. Her forehead creased with worry, her Alice. It was only a matter of time before she went back. She belonged there. But Wonderland is not what it seems. A child's fantasy never is.

Alice ran. Her feet followed a familiar path. Her stomach dropped. Her heart stopped. Then she was floating. "Ha! Hahaha! I did it!" The fall down the rabbit hole was not as Alice remembered it. The mirrors were shattered, the paintings were charred. There were no books and there was no marmalade. But there were portraits floating beside her. Interesting portraits with interesting people. A woman with short white hair, her eyes a dark almost black midnight blue. Two little men, with thin pink scars running from their brow to there cheek bone on the left side. A large cat, no man . . . no cat? Anyway, a large man-cat standing upright with his hand on his hips, a cheeky grin planted on his whiskered face. Then there was the girl. She was wearing a cherry red dress. Her hair was black, but it shone gold in the light. Her eyes were blue, but they were laced with blood red tears. Her small hand was placed on her shoulder, covering a large black glove belonging to a man with a large black top hat. His eyes were violet, pure violet, but such as the child's were, his sharp violet eyes were circled with a thin blood red line. Alice seemed to stop her falling and simply stared at the portrait. The girl's eyes were smiling. She looked so happy. Alice began to feel she was staring into a mirror, seeing right through the still figures to their thoughts. The girl seemed strange in some way. _We're all mad here._

She brushed his curly brown hair away from his eyes. "My sweet Arthur," she whispered, "I'm sorry." Genevieve's sleeping husband turned in his sleep. She left. It was strange thinking that she might see Wonderland again. Her heart skipped with a sort of fearful love that she couldn't truly comprehend. When Genevieve fell into Wonderland, she was not as young as her daughter. She was seventeen. She spent a year there, in the company of the White Rabbit. She often looked through the looking glass and saw her family. They had given up their search for her, assuming her dead. At nineteen, she went back. Arthur had found her, bloodied and beaten. War in Wonderland was more a danger for her than any other Wonderlander. But I cannot give everything away. I am the Looking Glass. And I know the story. The story of a girl who was curiously, wonderfully, simply . . . mad.

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	3. Chapter 2 William Hare

Chapter 2 William Hare

When she finally felt ground beneath her again, Alice was sprawled out in a pile of leaves. Except, when she finally looked around, there were… bones, human bones.

"Oh dear!" was all Alice could think of saying. Usually Alice was not a very squeamish person, but her sudden realization had caused her to jump higher in the air than she ever had before.

Now, Alice started to look around her. She headed down that same long passageway that she had wandered down what seemed so long ago. Most of the candles in the lamps had since burned out, and the doors had been broken down; when she tried to venture into the rooms that the doors lead into she was blocked out by some sort of invisible wall.

When she came to the place where the glass table had been, she found only broken pieces of glass and the label with the words _Drink Me_ that proved their existence.

Alice had forgotten about the White Rabbit completely. And just as she remembered the White Rabbit she heard, " Oh no, oh no, no no no no no! What have I done? I should not have been up there, in the over-world, not at all! I just couldn't help myself. I felt that I needed to see Genevieve, my sweet Genevieve, she was like a daughter to me! If the new queen finds out she will surely do something terrible!"

"How does the White Rabbit know my mother? And why was the he calling her 'my sweet Genevieve'?" she whispered these questions to herself, but could not figure out the answer! Alice had not noticed that the rabbit had stopped moving, and had begun to weep bitter tears.

She resolved to ask the White Rabbit herself.

"Could this Genevieve you speak of be my mother? Because my mother's name is Genevieve, and I did see you at my house. I do not mean to be impolite and ask you too many questions at once, but what is your name, for I know nothing better to call you than Mr. Rabbit."

At first the White Rabbit only gave her a blank look, then an expression of fear and recognition crossed his face.

"Oh my god" Was all that the rabbit could say. For he was quite taken aback, he had known that Alice and Genevieve had come from the same part of the over-world, but it had not been clear to him that Alice had been Genevieve's daughter. Now that he think about it, they looked strikingly similar, in fact, so much so that he couldn't believe he hadn't realized it before. That all those years ago it had been a child of Genevieve's that he had sent to his house to fetch him the gloves and the fan.

" Though I will tell you all that you wish to know and more, but I can not tell you here, it is not safe. My name is William Hare, but you may call me Will if you would like. Your mother always did…" The White Rabbit, now Will though, seemed to get lost in thought.

After a few moments he snapped back to reality.

"Come! Now! You must follow me!"

And with that Will Hare took Alice's hand and trotted off with Alice in tow. It seemed the most curious thing to Alice when one of the doors she had tried to pass through earlier let both her and Will Hare through.

But the only thing Alice could seem to think about were the words that were repeating through her head. _We're all mad here__._

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	4. Chapter 3 The Looking Glass Room

Chapter 3 The Looking Glass Room

Genevieve took a deep breath and held out her looking glass. "William Hare White," she spoke aloud. The looking glass propelled itself out of her hand and onto the bone covered floor. The surface rippled as a large figure rose out of the reflection. An exact copy of the White Rabbit himself. Accept of course, his eyes. The eyes of a Reflection (that is what you call these sort of beings) are never as real as the bodies themselves. For the eyes are made entirely of glass. When looking into them you see not a swirl of brown, blue, or green colors, but your own reflection contorted in the curve of the eye. She spoke again, "Show me…" she hesitated. She did not want to be shown her daughter; she wanted to be with her. But no. It would be best if Will explained it all. _I should keep away, at least for an hour or so._ She thought to herself. "Bring me to…the Duchess." With that the Reflection stepped through the unseen wall and led Genevieve in the opposite direction of where her Alice's footstep hurried not minutes ago.

Alice's hair was tangled and windblown from the fall. Her dress was rumpled and she was sure that she had been wearing at least one sock when she ventured to follow Will. Now her feet were cold and bruised. "I look awful!" she exclaimed. "Oh, don't worry Alice, these mirrors don't show what you really look like, just what you feel. To me you look quite pretty." Alice huffed, "Well I don't feel like an old hag so why is it showing me that! Stupid old hag reflection!" Will sighed, "Maybe you don't want to come face to face with what you are truly feeling." The key he was fiddling with finally clicked in the lock. "There we go. Inside now, inside." Alice stepped through the door and found herself surrounded by . . . herself. "Oh my."

Reflection Will opened a door on the right side of a small room. He then did something that, to someone inexperienced in the manners of Reflections, would be very peculiar. He sat down and crossed his legs, and then he squinted his beady glass eyes shut and honestly looked like he was about to explode. But he simply . . . well, he simply popped. He went out like a candle I should say. In his place lay Genevieve's looking glass. "Thank you Will," she laughed. She didn't think she would enjoy this as much as she did. But Wonderland is a curious place. The purple door stood open and Genevieve stepped through, not noticing the change that she went through as she actually set foot back onto the soil of the not so dreamlike dream world.

"Welcome to the Looking Glass Room. Choose a mirror Alice. Any mirror at all. And simply . . . well look into it." Alice stepped up to an intricately silver bordered mirror and looked straight into her own eyes. No, her . . . "Mother!" she cried. Her mother's eyes were a grass green unlike Alice's icy blue ones. And this girl's hair was slightly lighter than her own. More of a pastel yellow than a blonde. Her mother's younger self smiled and held out her hand. The looking glass surface rippled. "Be careful Alice. Don't forget that looking glass memories are not reality. Keep your head straight!" Will's voice faded as Alice stepped once more, through the looking glass. Into her mother's past.

It wasn't hard to find the house of the Duchess, since all you had to do was follow the screaming, squealing, and clanging of pots, and Genevieve arrived there with no trouble at all. She knocked on the large wooden door. "No Cook! Don't put _that_ there!"

The door flung open revealing a rather large woman wearing a cream dress and an outrageously feathered hat. "I don't expect you to remember me," Genevieve said, "Oh! Jillian dear do come in! Cook look here!" The Duchess hurried Genevieve over to the miserable looking cook, "I do believe her name is Genevieve ma'am," the cook said rather solemnly. Duchess gasped, "Oh yes of course! Ginny love I am terribly sorry, do forgive me." Genevieve laughed, "Yes of course. My name is Genevieve." "Genevieve, how . . . unexpected," a voice purred, "I do _love_ your dress." A large mirror appeared in front of Genevieve. Her white satin nightgown had apparently been replace by a dark purple dress cut just below her knees. Her hair was tied back in a black bow and Genevieve almost fainted when she noticed the Cheshire Cat perched on her shoulder like a parrot. "I must say though," he smirked, "aren't you a little too grown up for such attire?"

It was like walking on mist. There was no warmth and there was no cold, only a soft velvety feeling as she followed the empty reflections. Her mother's younger self pointed to small mirror on the right wall. Alice stepped through slowly. Her hair flew behind her as an unknown wind swept past. The White Rabbit's voice floated through her mind, "Alice it's Will. I hope you aren't too confused, I know this is all rather curious. I apologize but I fear I cannot give you the memories with any sound. It seems that the looking glass's have been …zzzzz and I don't think I can…zzzz…oh…don't make …zzz sound…they're…here…careful…please!" Alice's throat clogged up, "Will? Will!" A midnight blue glove reached through the first side of the looking glass and roughly pulled her back.

Alice woke up on a soft pink bed. "Hello." Alice looked around for the soft voice. A girl around eighteen sat beside her bed. Alice recognized her as one of the figures from the portrait in the rabbit hole. Her white hair was cropped short and her dark blue eyes stood out against her pale skin. Her dress was white as well, but the sleeves, collar, and the hem of the dress were ruffled with the same color of her eyes. The only strange thing was that she was wearing overly large black boots with silver buckles. The girl smiled gently, "My name is Mary Ann. Mary Ann White. I am William Hare White's niece. His sister is the White Queen, also my mother, Fallyn White. I hope I haven't spoken too quickly." Alice stood with her jaw hanging wide. She looked to her other side; on a small bedside table were a few pairs of white gloves and a red fan. _Mary Ann. Could she be the same Mary Ann the White Rabbit had mistaken me for? It is very highly possible. _Mary Ann laughed slightly as though she could guess what Alice was thinking, "Yes Alice. My uncle does tend to mix up his own niece with unfamiliar girls. He is getting old you know. Almost 192. But I must say, he doesn't look a day over 84 don't you think?" Alice could only nod her head; her mind was absolute pudding at the moment and none of this made sense. Absolute nonsense. "Isn't it!" Mary Ann exclaimed. Alice laughed, "Yes, yes it is."

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	5. Chapter 4 The Peacekeeper

Chapter 4 The Peacekeeper

After talking about trivial things, Mary Ann abruptly change the subject.

"So how did you end up in Wonderland anyway?"

This caught Alice off guard, so it took her a few moments before she could answer. "Well, where do you want me to start? This isn't really my first time in Wonderland."

"The beginning" was all Mary Ann would say.

"Well…." And with that, Alice began.

"Oh Cat, do stop pestering Genevieve so! She just arrived!" the Duchess scolded the Cheshire Cat. The Cat, not really wanting to start an argument, just gave Genevieve one of his all-knowing smiles, leaped from her shoulder onto the floor, and took on the shape of a cat-man as soon as his paws hit the ground.

"So, what has happened during all the years I've been gone?". Truthfully, Genevieve did not really care, because she already knew the answer. Wonderland had gone through a series of wars. When they were not at war, the tension was so high, that one wrong move could send the whole of Wonderland into another bloody battle. The question was just a way to change the subject.

"Years? It has not really been years since you were here last, has it?' the Duchess continued, answering her own question, "No, that is utterly impossible, because it was only but a day ago that you showed up at my doorstep as a child."

"Oh, but fair Duchess, it really is not so. Your doorstep has not had a foot laid upon it in quite a long time. It has indeed been years, since the lovely Genevieve has graced us with her presence." The Cheshire Cat spoke in such a tone that even the most blatant and cutting insults would seem to be a compliment. Genevieve had gotten used to the constant flattery of the Cat as well.

"Oh, well then, I'm sure that you are quite right, as you almost always are." The Duchess huffed with a flip of her graying gold hair, for she was indeed flattered by the Cheshire Cat calling her fair. No one ever called her fair, not without having a laughing fit on the ground. The Duchess? Fair? Not likely. You see, the Duchess was rather short and stout, and had a face resembling that of a pig. Her lips were indeed full, but rather puckered and more of a dirty pink than a rose red. Her hair fell in scraggly waves down to her shoulders but it was always covered by a ridiculous hat.

"Would you mind if I were to stay the night here?" Genevieve asked, addressing the Duchess. "Oh, why certainly not my dear! Cat, would you mind showing Genevieve to her room? I would be much obliged if you did."

"Why of course I will. Come follow me Genevieve." The Cat hooked arms with Genevieve and led her off, with that ever-present grin on his face. He was such a suspicious character. Hard to know whether or not to trust him. Having him so close to her side sent uncomfortable tingles up her spine.

When she crossed the threshold of the room, she found herself back in her nightgown. She would have to get used to Wonderland again. Her room was plain. The walls were a light blue and her bed was small. She let her hair cascade over her shoulders and sighed, lying down on the bed. She tried to overcome her constant worry about her daughter . . . and a few others. A brief image of a different little girl passed through her mind, and a man. His piercing eyes asked her to find him. She allowed her self a brief smile then pushed the thought out of her mind. Keeping it close in her heart. She closed her eyes.

She found herself unable to sleep. Was she hurt? Had Will found her? _Oh Alice my darling. _Will they ever be together again? The question bothered her to no end. So, she had no choice but to answer them herself. Taking as much comfort in her shaky replies.

She was most likely fine. Possibly shaken, but she was a strong girl. She had a strong mind and a willful heart. Will had probably found her, and they would someday reunite.

Then it clicked. The wars had started when Alice left, and Alice had told tales of her odd dreams in Wonderland. Alice must have been visiting Wonderland from the over-world during her dreams. Genevieve gasped. Alice was the peacekeeper in Wonderland. She had to be there to sort everything out. To keep the slightest bit of sanity in the minds of the Wonderlanders.

The danger was too great. Memories of blood, loss, anger, triumph, defeat, and utter depression wrecked through Genevieve's mind. How could it be Alice? She was so young. She hadn't learned enough yet. She wasn't complete. Yet again. Alice has always been fond of being two people. Genevieve laughed at the thought of Alice as she often played croquet with herself. Maybe Alice was her own puzzle. Maybe she had to find the last piece. This truly was getting curiouser and curiouser. But I suppose we knew all along.

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	6. Chapter 5 The Burnt Meadow

Chapter 5 ~ The Burnt Meadow

"Oh, Alice!" Mary Ann covered her mouth with her dainty hand, "I never knew. No one believed you about Wonderland? No one at all? What about your mother?" Alice sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose she believed me, but she couldn't say anything. Maybe out of fear. I don't know." It was silent for a while. Both girls sat in quiet contemplation. Possibly thinking about Wonderland, or their mothers, or . . . cats. "Alice?" Mary Ann twiddled her fingers. "Hm?" Mary Ann stood up, "I want to show you something. It might come as a shock, but you deserve to see it." Mary Ann took Alice's hand and they ran down the stairs.

In a few minutes, the two girls sat side by side on the ground of the garden. "Is somebody…weeping?" Mary Ann sighed. "The flowers. Look." Mary Ann pointed slowly towards the meadow. "I'll wait here Alice. You go ahead. It's…too hard for me."

The weeping grew louder as Alice cautiously stepped into the tall grass. Charred petals scattered across the dirt as an unknown wind blew her hair in front of her eyes. "What happened here?" She whispered, her throat closing up with a familiar choking feel, and her skin becoming flushed. "The Diamonds," a voice said lazily. Alice looked around. Then came another, "Their fires spread strangely. We did not expect to be expected." "Where are you?" Alice asked, "_What_ are you?" What looked to be delicate black snowflakes swirled around her head. "We Ashes come when the Diamond Fires call. We cannot be kept away. Or swept away. We cannot be stopped from littering the sky and the floors. We bring tears." Alice only then noticed that she was crying as well. The wailing of the flowers grew louder and louder, overwhelming Alice's poor heart. "No!" She shouted, and began swatting at the chanting Ash. "We cannot be kept away. We cannot be swept away. We cannot be kept away." The shaking girl knelt down and tried frantically to find the flowers. To stop their weeping. To comfort them. But she was met by torn faces and scarred petals. Ripped stems. Black and crumbling. _No, no, no, _she thought, "No." The dead lips on the dead flowers chanted with the ash.

_ They cannot be kept away._

_ They cannot be swept away._

_ Leave us to our weeping._

_ Leave us._

Alice ran. She ran and ran and ran. "I have to get away!" She bumped into something soft. "Shhh, Alice. It's all right. They're gone. They're gone." Alice looked up and in her voice, reduced to the trembling words of a child, whispered, "No Mary Ann. They're not."

_ They cannot be kept away._

_ They cannot be swept away._

_ Leave us to our weeping._

_ Leave us._

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